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All Better
It's not long after talking with Whirl and Blast Off (and Swift Blade) that Shiftlock is headed back to the Acropolex, because that's where Hot Rod is, and she fully remembers Hot Rod. << Heeeeeeey Roddy-Rod-Rod, you lively? >> Well, that's a heck of a ringtone, especially at this time of day. Shiftlock drives in and rolls out of altmode at the steps of the Acropolex, and takes a moment to drink it all in. It used to be home. Even if it was only for a little while, it used to be home. << More or less. >> A faintly mystified note registers in the brief comm exchange: Hot Rod sounds puzzled, and puzzled means curious, and curious means he abandons what he's doing -- something terribly important, of course -- to work his way out of the Acropolex's interior. He takes a side path. << How's the head? >> << Slightly dented. Primary memory registers are 90% restored, still have a few upper memory registers that are in defrag. I think Slag knocked something lose. I hear you're running into burning buildings these days. How's that working out for you? >> "What do you mean, restored?" Hot Rod ends up exiting far enough off to the side that when he comes around to join Shiftlock on the steps, he's actually approaching from slightly behind her. He took the long way. He doesn't look that bad for someone who's running into burning buildings, but there's a patch on his back and another on his side that shows signs of being recently repaired. The rate he's going, it'll be a miracle if there's a single bit of original paint or original metal left on him before long. He stops far enough back from her that it's clear he hasn't forgotten their last encounter, but it is not wariness that holds his step: it's concern. Shift hasn't noticed him yet, she's still looking up at the Acropolex, drinking it in - at least until he speaks. That gets her attention. She turns around to face him, and sits down on the steps. "Blast Off accidentally found the right key to help me unlock everything that was firewalled." She taps the side of her head - that chevron of hers is bent and yeah, there's some light dents. "Ratbat, Hot Rod. That was what did it. I'll tell you what I told Blast Off and Whirl: They had to leave my memories of Ratbat untouched so they could be admissable as evidence. Once I started thinking about everything that'd happened to me while he was in the room, it gave me backdoor access to all the memories and information that'd been blocked off. Pretty soon it just cascaded and everything came back to me. It's mostly sorted back out now, but I'm back." "/Ratbat/." Hot Round sounds disgusted. He drags his hands down his face before settling into a wide-legged stance with his hands on his hips as he studies her. After a moment, he moves closer. "So you can resist the urge to punch me this time?" His grin teases. "So what's mostly -- or aren't you sure? What about the programming?" "Programming? I don't know if there was any, I mean, I know my memories were all blocked off and that pretty much knocked me down to a new spark. No memories, no experience, no capacity to determine good and bad. Maybe that's why Blurr's so easy to control," Shiftlock suggests. As Hot Rod teases her about punching him, she taps her chin and narrows her optics. "I dunno, mech, you've got a pretty punchable face, I could get into that kinda thing." Her tone makes it obvious she's teasing back. "If there was programming I think being exposed to Mercury for as long as I was gave me the ability regenerate over the damage done -- and that's why I'm both in luck, and completely hosed. I'm not going to be able to stay here for long, or they're gonna know the jig is up and send someone like Quickswitch after me." Settling on his heels, Hot Rod meets the suggestion about Blurr with a grimace, and an unusual silence. He leans on humor to laugh a slightly strained, "Yeah, I hear that a lot. So -- what are you going to do? Go back to what you were doing? Pretend everything's the same? Are they going to be in your head again, Shiftlock? Because--." He breaks off and then glances toward the Acropolex and back. "Well, I guess if they got it out of your head, they'd have pulled it when you were first arrested, so maybe there's no use worrying about it." "Yeah, Blast Off and Whirl were all 'nooo, you can't go back you have to stay here or they'll just send you to Pharma again', blah blah blah." Shiftlock makes a yapping mouth motion with one hand and rolls her optics. "Security Forces weren't worried about you guys, they wanted everything I knew about Ratbat, since I was his personal cleaner for a hundred years. Bag 'em, tag 'em, slag 'em. Other than that, nobody cared what else was in my head. Their mistake, really. I've been all over." "So that leaves me with a plan - I'm going back to the Autobots. I spent a lot of time with Pax and what he said made sense. Someone has to fight on the inside as well as trying to wake people up on the outside, and you guys are gonna be a lot better off if I can tip Prowl's hand. I can warn you when there's trouble coming if I do it fast enough, and it won't matter if they send me to Pharma again. They haven't figured it out yet: they can't compromise who I am. My mind will just keep resetting itself." Hot Rod looks so offended. "What do you mean they weren't worried about us?" His gaze narrows in brief calculation. "I bet they'd pay attention if we broke into the IAA." (Hot Rod, no.) He turns his attention reluctantly from his favorite subject -- himself -- to consider the rest of what Shiftlock has said. He vents a slow sigh and then, with extreme reluctance, nods. "Yeah. Okay. I mean, it's definitely useful, the more people we have inside with their heads screwed on straight." He grins after a brief pause. "I knew they couldn't keep you down." "I'm a fighter if nothing else," Shiftlock agress. "I might not be the biggest or the strongest, but I'll fight until the day I burn out." Another subject comes to mind, pressing in on the line of conversation with its importance. "The reason they weren't worried about Nyon is because they caught a Decepticon. They hired one of those 'personality adjusters' to go in and just rape all the information out of the guy's head. They're gonna move on the entire pit fight ring, Rod, bust them all at once." "Where's Drift, Hot Rod? Please tell me he isn't pit fighting." Now /there's/ an awkward question. It takes Hot Rod a second to work around to it. He tenses in surprise, drawing upright and squaring his shoulders. "What? When! All of them? I should -- they should know. Did you tell Blast Off? I'll--." He breaks off, because there's a question she's asked that he hasn't answered. "Drift's ... one of them," says Hot Rod. "A Decepticon. And he's going by Deadlock and he's even angrier than he was before, if that's possible. He's not going to be happy about you staying with the Autobots. At all." "I already warned Blast Off," Shiftlock assures. "I know he'll get the message back to the right people. I don't dare go tell them myself, Barricade still has me on a KOS list." The news about doesn't surprise her, but is still disappointing to hear nonetheless. "I don't even know what's going on in Drift-- /Deadlock's/ head anymore. He'll just have to get over himself." Settling back with a shrug of his shoulders, Hot Rod nods. "Okay, good." Smile a little crooked, he says, "This kind of thing -- the warning? That's why I was telling Drift that maybe kidnapping anyone with an Autobot brand just to see what they know is a bad idea. Friends are great. He's just really caught up in the whole Decepticon ... thing." Somewhere between distressed and exasperated, he just rolls a shoulder in the end. "A lot of bots are." Shiftlock rests her elbows on her knees. "I was at one time, but I just... I dunno Hot Rod. I don't think the violent dissolution of society is what's going to fix things. I think that'll just get more people hurt." "The violent oppression of the lower classes isn't /fixing things/, either," Hot Rod says. Heatedly. (Cylinderly.) "It's not like there aren't good people in the 'bots: you, Arcee, Chromia--" That's a lot of ladies, kiddo. "--Jazz, Pax, Ratchet, I mean come on. Sure! But who's really changing things? Who's got the power? It's not you guys. What are you actually fighting inside? There's a lot you /could/ do, but until now you weren't really free to." "If you just tear down society into anarchy, how are we going to function? I don't disagree with you on the lower castes, Hot Rod, I was a -disposable-, I understand. But we have to have something to put in place immediately after the fall of the present order or everything that keeps us alive and functioning as a civilization dies. You can't carve the fuel pump out of the frame and then decide you need to invent something better than a fuel pump! The frame will die long before you finish," Shiftlock argues gently. "Do you have a plan? Do you know what kind of society we should build?" "A better one!" Duh. Hot Rod shakes his head at Shiftlock and then looks up, jaw set. "I'm not talking about anarchy, and I'm not talking about carving anyone from anything. I'm talking about fixing things -- about doing real things, for the people who actually need it. But not doing anything, just saying those other guys are wrong? That's not fixing anything. Inaction, stagnation is what pushed this so that they got so bad that the so many people even listen to the Decepticons." "You won't catch me disagreeing with you there. I just want to make sure we can make a better world than the one we live in. If we can't... we're just spinning our wheels," Shiftlock argues gently. Hot Rod waves his hands around Nyon in a broad, exasperated gesture. "We're not exactly gonna be able to do much worse. People deserve something /better/." "You're not answering my question," Shiftlock states, smiling a bit. She intends to pin Hot Rod down on this one, and possibly, JUST MAYBE, think. "What, what kind of /society/? I kind of thought it was rhetorical, because no one thinks I'm building anything," Hot Rod says, dropping his hands with a careless wave. "It's not complicated. Freedom, not factions. Equality, not exploitation." "So if everyone's equal -- and I want that -- who does the jobs no one wants to do? Who makes sure no one takes advantage of others? What laws do we keep and which ones do we get rid of? Who makes sure the energon is mined, the buildings are built, the damaged are repaired?" Shiftlock asks, trying to jog Hot Rod's thought processes beyond just 'fiery anarchist'. "Ha! You want it too, though, so why are you asking me?" Hot Rod sends right back at her with a triumphant point of his hand. Nice try, Shiftlock. You can't make him think critically about politics. "Because people look to you as a leader. Heck, in many ways *I* look to you as a leader. When you run around getting people fired up about resisting the government, that /makes you a leader/, and that means -terrible things- for you. Like -responsibility-." SHE USED THE R WORD. Hot Rod's hand drops. His face falls. He says, "Why do people keep saying that," in a mutter with a kick at the pavement. LEADER. "Ugh, yeah, okay. I'll think about it." See also: ask Nautica, Rewind, generally /smarter people/ to think about it for him. "I mean -- I don't know, people keep asking, maybe I should have an answer." Shiftlock chuckles. "Hey, you have a lot to live up to. Not many people have flames on their chest." The reminder squares Hot Rod's shoulders and causes him to push his chest out as he unslumps. THAT'S RIGHT. He has flames on his chest. Amazing. Hero. "Tell me about it." He grins, tone sliding back to cheer. "Hey -- Shiftlock. I'm really glad you're better. I should probably go tell some of the others. Flareup was getting grenades in case you were still working for the Senate," he admits. "I think she just wanted an excuse. But I'll see you more now, right?" "Every chance I get. I have to report back in regularly and I'll be on missions, but with any luck I'll just be passing on what the Security Forces are planning straight to you. Which reminds me--" Shiftlock takes out a small communications transponder. Cybertronian cellphone anyone? "I'm going to give you an updated frequency you can use to keep in touch with me. I can't go shouting at you over broadband - unless I'm keeping up the brainwashed act for the sake of my new cover." Hot Rod's grin brightens to something truly brilliant. It just might even outshine his paint job. (Happiness does that.) "Awesome." Frequency exchange and all important details done, Hot Rod reaches to clasp her shoulder and give it a quick squeeze. "See you later." Then he's off to go make sure explosives remain pointed in the right direction.